Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1887-11-24
AT LAST.
A Pathetic Love Story Founded on
Fact.

81 suppose any one would take me
for a regular tramp" muttered Gid
con Holmes, as he turned aside from
the dusty road. and seated himself UNI
der the shade of great oak tree. Il
look like one. goodness knows Well,
my tramping days are most over, l
hope. Only two miles more to New
vile. and my journeys done. l Won
der if any of the old friends will know
me. How good it will seem to take
'em by the hand. after fifteen years
absence! There'll be changes; must
expect that. I'm changed myself.
Battered and gray, don't look moth
in like the Teller was when enlist
ed. War was hard on men and coun-
try alike; but the men show it more'n
the country. l wonder. now. what's
become of Joe McMurtrie! Settled
down. l expect, farmin' somewhcres,
an married to that girl he set so much
by. l can sec him now a-lookin' ut
her picter She was pretty, there's no
denyin' that"
Old Gideon was tired and hungry.
He had walked all the way from North
Carolina. where he had remained after
being mustered out at The close of the
war of the rebellion. He had work ed
as farm hand. but his wages were
small. and he had never been able to
save any thing. So. when great de-
sire seized him to see again the hills
and valleys of his native Pennsylvania,
lie had been obliged to make the jour
ney on foot and to beg his food at the
different farm-houses he passed. He
had slept in barns. sheds and under
haystacks, and he had sometimes been
rated soundly by the farmers wives
for leading such an idle life; for they
regarded him as the worthless vaga-
bond he appeared to be. and refused
10 believe the story he told.
But he was in Pennsylvania at last,
and only ten miles from the
little village where his youth
and early manhood had been
passed, and where his wife and chill
dren--who had died before the war
lay buried in the old, grass-grown
churchyard.
This bread is about as hard as
bread can ever be-" the old man NUT
tered. as he opened his bundle and
took out part of loaf which a farm
cr's wife had given him the previous
day. Il wonder if the folks i'm that
house yonder would give me a cup of
milk to soak i, in
The house ~ which his gaze was di-
rec:ed stood at some distance from the
road. 1t was two-story frame build
ing. implanted and weather-beaten.
There were no shades Mt the windows,
and all the pancs in those of the upper
story were broken out. Had it not
been for the lowing of cow in n shed,
and The anxious ciucking of half a
dozen hens to their broods. old Gideon
would have thought the place unoccu-
pied.
Leaving his bundle under the tree
he crossed the road. pushed open the
little gate. and walked up to the front
door. on either side of which roses and
.syringa were blooming luxuriantly.
He had 10 knock twice before there
was any sound of life within: Then
The heard the shuttle of q mans feet
over the bare floor. and at last the door
was thrown open with a jerk.
will you let me have a''--began
Gideon. and then broke off with a laugh
that was almost sou Joe! Joe
.McMurtrie!' he cried. holding out his
brown and calloused hand. don't you
know meP Don't you know me, old
.comrade?"
Tho man in the doorway stared at
him minute. a puzzled expression on
his face; then. with the effusion of q